Ode to a mouse


Ode to a mouse – a poem with very little pentametric prose by Kat

There is a mouse.  In our house.

A mouse, I tell you – a mouse!

Come, come drive with us, mouse

Stowaway in our little house

On wheels.  And see what you can see

In Kentucky and Tennessee

Feast on our saffron rice

(apparently a favourite of mice)

And apple, tomato and avocado

You have good tastes, as I’m sure you know

But why, oh why are you so reticent

And leave only little presents and your scent?

Dear mouse, you make the camper smell

Anyone around can tell

That we have an unwanted visitor

Your odor is your unique signature

In the mornings when we arise

We wonder what surprise

Will be waiting for us in the fruit bowl

Will all our fruit still be whole?

Patiently we set the bait

And sat to watch and wait

Phee-eew – what rotten food have we left behind

There must be something we can’t find

Clean the fridge, empty the garbage

Did we leave a rotten cabbage?

My friend it seems you were unlucky

Your journey ended in Kentucky

You no longer live with us in our house

Because now you are an ex-mouse.


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8 Responses to Ode to a mouse

  1. Debbie says:

    Favorite…not Favourite…

    Ha ha…maybe you’ll become a famous poetic in your journeys this year?

    • Kat says:

      Maybe. Although I might only become famous (with a ‘u’ – not famos) for spelling things properly. As much as I love all y’all, you can’t keep on chopping letters out of words willy-nilly.

  2. Breck says:

    Catching mice is quite a task
    But 1 mouse was far too rash
    You aren’t wrong
    The mouse is gone
    I guess he’s rather mashed.

  3. Melan says:

    I’m dying, picturing you getting pissed off. I’m glad your scented friend ex-moused, because I don’t LIKE Spam!

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